Home Rose to Meet Them
by William Easley
Summary: Early in September, 2016, the Mystery Twins return to their home in Piedmont, already missing Gravity Falls but with their senior year of high school ahead. This is their day on the road, their homecoming, and something for Dipper to worry about . . . .


"**Home Rose to Meet Them"**

* * *

**(Piedmont, CA, September 4, 2016)**

The drive south toward home was a long one, and Dipper and Mabel agreed to take the driving in two-hour shifts. They had talked their mom and dad into letting them drive back on Sunday instead of Saturday, pointing out that traffic wouldn't be as much of a worry, and anyway, they could help out in the Shack on those last crazy days before Labor Day.

Soos, who with his wife Melody had already given them birthday presents, surprised them with envelopes holding $100.00 each—"Your summer bonus, dawgs. Heh. Dawgs get a bonus! Is that—is that funny? You know what, I'm gonna laugh anyway."

They thanked him—it would be good to have some extra traveling money, just in case. Wendy's present to them had been a complete tune-up of Helen Wheels, and she wangled a hefty discount on a new set of tires all around—"Tread's not quite worn out completely, but I feel a lot better about you guys driving with fresh ones."

And she had done that in two afternoons, after having worked all day in the Shack. "Now, " Mabel said with tears in her eyes, "that is true love, Brobro!"

So early Sunday morning, before the sun was up, Dipper and Mabel rose, fed and walked Tripper, and gathered up their dirty clothes in a laundry bag. Everything else they were taking was already stuffed into the Carino's trunk.

The previous evening, they'd said goodbyes to Soos, Melody, Abuelita, Harmony, and Little Soos, who'd wandered around desolate for an hour, sniffling and telling everybody, "Mabel's going bye-bye."

They'd said farewells to Teek and Wendy, too—but at a quarter to six on Sunday morning, Teek and Wendy stood on the Shack porch, grinning. "Didn't think we'd let you get away without a last hug, did you?" Wendy asked. She was wearing Dipper's trucker hat, and Dipper's heart soared and then sank at seeing her and then realizing this was going to be it for a while.

As Tripper nosed around the yard, Dipper and Wendy walked a little way apart, and they kissed and promised to text and face-time each other every day, while much the same went on between Teek and Mabel.

Finally Mabel—for once—called, "Broseph, let's do it."

Wendy handed Dipper a small cooler. "Breakfast, man, when you guys get hungry. Better go before I kidnap you." She winked. "You look hot in a trapper's hat, dude."

So one last hug, one lingering kiss—Wendy had popped a peppermint in her mouth—and they let Tripper jump into the backseat, where he settled down at once. Then Mabel said, "Dipper, you take the first shift, OK?"

_Wow. Just wow._

Much like the time they had first left Gravity Falls on a bus, Wendy ran alongside the car on the driver's side, waving, and Teek did the same on the passenger side. And then Dipper made the turn. Without asking, he cruised the streets of Gravity Falls, just . . . taking a last look. "It's harder this time," he said.

And that's when he realized Mabel was weeping silently, and when he understood why he had the first turn behind the wheel.

They could have taken the route over to Portland and then turned south on the Interstate, or the alternate, Route 20 to Eugene, but that involved a very curvy mountain road and some backtracking. Instead, they'd agreed to take U.S. 97 south through Bend and then down into California, getting on the Five—Interstate 5—there. After that, it was a straight shot the rest of the way.

"This is the route Mom and Dad took that time they came up," Mabel, whose sniffles had died down, said.

"I know," Dipper told her. "Dad said to be extra-careful going over the bridge near Klamath Falls. That's where some crazy driver nearly ran them off into the river."

They stopped before getting that far, though, at Collier Memorial State Park—Dipper, as usual, had done some pre-planning, and he'd learned the park was dog-friendly. They paid a seven-dollar entrance fee and then found parking near a walking trail. Mabel took Tripper out for a stroll and he did his business, which she gathered up in a plastic baggie and disposed of in a trash can.

Dipper had found a picnic table and had unpacked the breakfast Wendy had given them: her home-made Southern-style buttermilk biscuits, split into sandwiches filled with slices of turkey ham. And four hard-boiled eggs, and a Thermos of coffee. The insulated cooler and a hot pack had kept everything warm.

Mabel gave Tripper a little snack. "Sorry," she said to the dog, "but you can't run around off your leash. It's a law. When you get old enough to vote, remember that. Fight the power!"

It was close to eight-thirty, cool but clear, and the park was peaceful. A couple of joggers ran past, and Tripper had to protect the twins against a gull who got too close for his comfort, but one bark sent the intruder flying.

Mabel, her mouth full of biscuit and ham, said, "Mm! Where have these been all my life?"

"Wendy can teach you how to make these," Dipper said. "She leaned from her Aunt Sallie."

"They're delicious." Mabel pinched off a bite of the biscuit and ham and tossed it to Tripper. Dipper had about given up on cautioning her about dogs and people food, so he just sipped his coffee and missed his fiancée.

"Hey," Mabel said, cracking a boiled egg, "do you think Tripper thinks we think his poop is like treasure?"

Dipper nearly choked. "Not at the breakfast table, please!"

But Mabel went on: "I mean, he sees us wait for it and pick it up and put it in a special little bag—"

To divert her, Dipper said, "Your turn to drive now. You can take us down as far as Weed."

She ate the egg in two bites. "OK. Ready to roll?"

They tossed their trash and Tripper obediently took his place in the back seat, where it looked as if he'd settle in for a nap.

"Wagons, ho!" Mabel said. As she started the engine, she added, "I wonder how many there were? I mean, only one ho for a whole wagon train, or—"

And despite his longing for Wendy, Dipper had to laugh a little.

So the day passed, in two-hour bites: Gravity Falls to Klamath Falls, Klamath Falls to Weed, Weed to Willows, Willows to Piedmont. With the breaks they took for lunch and to let the dog do his stuff (to Tripper's obvious relief), they turned on their own street at a little past four in the afternoon. They passed their old house, now the Sheaffer house, and Mabel, at the wheel, said, "I still feel a little funny going by here."

"Look," Dipper said.

At the end of the street, where their house waited on the cul-de-sac, someone sat on the front steps.

"Billy!" Mabel said, surprised.

The boy jumped up as they parked, ran over, and hugged Mabel. "I'm so glad you guys are back!" he said. "Hey, is that a _dog_? That's a _dog_! You got a _dog_!"

Dipper took Tripper out of the backseat, and the dog stretched every limb he possessed. Then he led him over to Billy, who stood tense, with his elbows bent, his hands nearly closed to fists under his chin. "Tripper," Dipper said, "this is Billy. Billy, this is Tripper, who kind of adopted us."

"I like dogs," Billy mumbled. "But they don't like me."

Mabel said, "Tripper! Sit. Shake hands with Billy."

Tripper sat and lifted his paw.

"Go ahead," Mabel told Billy. "Don't leave him hanging."

Very tentatively, Billy reached down. Tripper tapped his palm with a paw and then tilted his head inquisitively.

"There, see?" Mabel said. "He likes you. He just has to get used to you, is all. Want to come to the backyard with me and him? We'll introduce him to his new home!"

They went through the house, and in a moment Alex Pines came outside to help Dipper unload the car. "How was the drive?" he asked as they carried the suitcases—Dipper had one, plus two guitar cases, and Mabel had three, including one stuffed with art and art supplies.

"Not bad," Dipper said. "We made good time."

"How'd the car do?"

Oh, yeah, Dad was all about the wheels.

"Fine," Dipper said. "Wendy tuned it up for us and helped us get a new set of tires at a really good price."

Dad stopped dead at the head of the stairs, looking as if he were in love. "Mason, if you don't see this thing through and marry her," Dad said, "I warn you, we're going to adopt her!"

Dipper moved the car into the garage. In the family room, Mom told him that they were having a roast for dinner and asked, "Did you see Billy?"

"Oh, yeah," Dipper said. "He was sitting on the steps when we drove up."

Dad shook his head. "He must've been there for hours! He couldn't wait for you guys to come home."

"I think he's lonely," Wanda Pines added. "Poor little guy."

Well, he had two sisters, so—but Dipper didn't say that. He stopped in the kitchen for a drink of water. His mother patted his face. "You've got a little bristle going on," she said, sounding fond but a little wistful. "You're not my little boy anymore."

"But I'm always your son," he said, hugging her. "It's good to be back."

That afternoon, Dipper could tell that Tripper wasn't completely at ease around Billy. It was nothing overt—no growling, no barking or snarling—but the dog remained unusually stand-offish for him. Usually he was confident that humans had been invented to love him, and he was all over anyone who showed the slightest interest in him—but now, though he would let Billy ruffle his ears and pat him, he didn't obviously revel in the attention. He chased a ball that Billy tossed, but instead of handing it back, as he did with Mabel or Dipper, Tripper dropped it at Billy's feet.

He did make the younger boy laugh. Tripper discovered the Pines swimming pool and first went for a dip, paddled across, climbed out, shook himself, and then climbed the ladder and took a running leap off the diving board.

"I don't know how Mom and Dad are gonna like that," Dipper said.

"Oh, a little dog hair's not gonna clog up the drain," Mabel said.

And Billy was giggling at the sight of Tripper dog-paddling around as if the proud pup had been born to do just that.

Mom invited Billy to stay for dinner, he phoned home and got permission, and as they ate he talked about his own recent birthday—coincidentally (or, Dipper wondered, was it?) on the same day as the twins'. He got a new game system and Dipper promised to come over and play it with him, and a skateboard, and a new eye—

He stopped, red-faced, looking down.

"It's OK," Mabel said. "That's no big deal."

He looked up, hopefully. "It's this one," he almost whispered, pointing. "The old one wasn't fitting so good."

The bright artificial eye looked almost exactly like his real one. If Dipper hadn't known, it would have fooled him.

"It's beautiful," Mabel assured him, and the little boy beamed.

Reflecting that he had all the next day to unpack—Labor Day, so no labor, dudes, as Soos might say—Dipper lazed around, read some of his dad's magazines, channel-surfed but found nothing as good as Gravity Falls' Good Enough for Television Movie.

As dusk came on, Mabel offered to walk Billy home, and Dipper went to the front door to see them off. It wasn't a long walk, just three houses down on the left, but Dipper watched them. Mabel was telling some story, with gestures. Bill was looking up at her adoringly.

_He's taller than I was at his age, _Dipper thought.

And then he briefly saw himself at twelve, walking beside Wendy in a posture and attitude just like Billy's.

And he thought, _Oh, my God._

_Billy has a crush on Mabel!_

* * *

The End

* * *

_The title is adapted from W.S. Merwin's "Homecoming" in his collection _Moon Before Morning. _Rest in peace, Mr. Merwin. Aloha._


End file.
